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Money Matters

Warning: Random ramble of no particularly import up ahead.

Yesterday, mom got a call from an ex-colleague of hers, way back from our Dubai days. Pre-1988, as a matter of fact. This lady, also has lost her husband, and now lives in Sri Lanka. She had reached out to mom before, just to talk, and it has been a while since that first phone call after 30-odd years.

Yesterday though, she didn’t call to catch up. She called to ask for help. Monetary assistance to be more specific. And the bottom fell out for the both of us.

It brought back many memories of our own family financial crisis back in Dubai. The days where we didn’t know what was going to happen on a minute to minute basis. The days where hope and prayer was what held our crumbling minds together. Leaving Dubai was a huge relief, what with visa issues too, but coming back to Mumbai was hellish. Living in this house with the rest of our family and the pets.

That was in 2002, and it has taken many years of hope and hard work to crawl out of that abyss. I read so much about people saying that hard work is the only way out of any situation. But what people fail to mention is that you can apply for jobs, and attend a million interviews, but an organisation would still have to offer you a job for you to apply that hard work.

Goa was a bit better for a while, but soon enough that ended too. Mumbai has been somewhat kinder, in that I was able to find work. For a few glorious years, financial stability was a reality. I actually managed to save! Ha! But that soon ended too, and dear lord finding work as a freelancer is tough: I’m expensive, because my team demands exorbitant pay. I’m a freelancer, because I work out of home instead of an office. And multitude of issues more. I try. Pick myself up [with a lot of help from the midget] and try again.

There is no point to this post really. I was finding it difficult to process the phone call and all the myriad feelings it raised. In short, today I am feeling every single minute of my almost 34 years. Somehow I can’t draw on my reserves of silliness to tide me over.